Wanders and Whisperwings - Baz and Simon
by latenightcoffee
Summary: Stranded after an attack by the Humdrum when Baz is injured, Baz and Simon are forced to spend time with each other.
1. Chapter 1

Baz

Simon Snow was running away from me. Again.

Except this time it wasn't my fault.

I know what you're thinking. That whole unreliable narrator crap. That I've probably murdered Snow and buried his infuriatingly handsome body in some deep dark pit in the Wavering Wood.

But this time it really wasn't me (Sadly. That's a pretty good daydream.)

This time it was the swarm of songbirds twittering aggressively above his head like some kind of warped halo that were most likely about to tear him to pieces. Nice and slowly.

I didn't see the birds arrive. Maybe if I had I might have been the least bit prepared for the sight of Snow bursting through the weathered apple trees, his arms outstretched like he was trying to grasp at the air. For a fleeting second I pictured a shitty romantic comedy where he ran over the crest of the hill and collapsed at my feet in some kind of declaration of love. Then I snapped back to reality.

"Snow, what the f**k are you doing?"

He looked at me murderously for a moment and then remembered what he was running from. On this rare occasion, not me.

Snow gesticulated frantically toward the cluster of trees.

"Whisperwings" he panted. "Coming...this way. Think...it's the Humdrum."

Whisperwings are tiny. Their bodies are only about the length of your pinkie, but that doesn't mean they aren't merciless killing machines. One of the biggest mistakes people make with whisperwings is not looking past the body to the beak. It's serrated and deadly sharp like some kind of glorified breadknife. They are one of the few creatures that the magickal world knows about that kill us purely for pleasure...or if they're bored. They like to pick victims apart methodically. One ear, another ear, an eye, until there's nothing left of you, unless they don't like the taste of you. Whisperwings are surprisingly fussy eaters.

A faint chirping noise comes from the trees and Snow, panicked, grabs my hand. I don't even notice until I look down and see his fingers entwined with mine. I vaguely hear my heart speed up a little. Snow doesn't even seem to notice that he's holding my hand. He's absorbed in thought, his brow furrowed. With the smallest effort I pull my hand from his. The tiniest motion, yet it means so much. To me. Not to him. Never to him.

Snow looks up, startled. His face is flushed pink from running, like he's plastered bubblegum onto his cheeks. It's such an innocent colour that I have to resist the urge to reach down and touch it (despite his failed attempts at **make like a plant** , I'm still taller than him.)

"Don't touch me, Snow."

He opens his mouth (His lips are chapped. They always are, even in summer ) to say something – probably an invariably weak insult – and that's when the birds explode from the trees.

Simon

I shouldn't have done that.

It's a really stupid thing to think when you're in mortal danger, but that's the only thing going through my head as I sprint away from the whisperwings, Baz racing ahead of me. Even when he's running away from certain death he still manages to be graceful. It helps that he runs like a bloody cheetah.

Ishouldn'thavedoneitIshouldn'thavedoneitIshouldn't –

"Snow, do you have any kind of f*****g plan or are we going to keep running until we fall off the side of the earth ?" Baz yells furiously.

The incessant humming of the birds grows louder and louder with every passing second. It's less twittering now, more like shrieks and screams. It's loud, and wild, and really really terrifying.

No ordinary magic could defeat these creatures. No sword could destroy them. It would take something bigger. The magickal equivalent of dynamite.

I smile.

This was made for me.

"How long do we have before they catch up to us?" I shout.

"Do I look like a mathematician, Snow? I don't bloody know!"

I look at him. His eyes look like they're on fire. Like him.

I look at him, and I raise my eyebrows.

Baz looks like he wants to rip my eyebrows off, but he says "One minute. Max."

One minute.

I close my eyes, and concentrate.

I am not like other magicians. Other magicians can channel their magic. It bends to their will. It is theirs and theirs alone.

I'm not like that.

I have no control over my magic. It explodes out of me with the force of an atom bomb. It's f*****g ruthless.

It doesn't feel mine.

It doesn't feel like it belongs to me.

But right now, I really need it to.

And so I stop running.

Baz

For the second time today I shout at him "Snow, what the f**k are you doing?"

He's stopped dead, frozen. He's clenched his fists and I can see from here his nails are biting into his palms. His eyes look like they've been locked shut.

I inhale sharply. He's going to go off.

When Snow goes off, there's nothing you can do but run. Or stand there.. The air gets closer. Your mouth tastes metallic. It's like everything is about to be struck by lightning and you can just feel it coming.

Right now, I can just feel it coming.

The whisperwings are getting closer and closer. Snow's so tense, he looks like he's about to snap. Closer, closer, closer until –

"Sno-"

I'm smashed backwards by a wave of pure magic. My head connects with a tree trunk and suddenly everything looks blurry at the edges. I can feel my vision darkening, like the end of a movie before the credits.

The last thing I remember seeing is a feather floating down gently from the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

Baz

I'm not entirely sure where I am.

When you're Simon Snow's roommate this is a pretty common occurrence. Almost getting killed is practically part of my daily routine now. Get up, brush my teeth, watch while Snow kills something dangerous, try not to watch while Snow kills something dangerous, sleep. Oh, and drink an animal's blood. Did I mention I drink blood?

Thought not.

I'm vaguely aware of something touching my back. It feels suspiciously like a sword. I don't feel any pain, but it's most likely I will if I don't do something very quickly. Suddenly I feel wide awake. Snow. Sword. Possible death.

In my experience, they all work better than an alarm clock.

Slowly, carefully, I slide my fingers along the ground until I hit something solid. I half open my eyes. I can't be sure, but I think it's a stick, maybe a branch blown off by Snow when he-. Wait. What did he do? My brain feels fuzzy, like someone's taken it out of my head and replaced it with cotton fluff. My legs ache like someone cast a jelly jinx on me (and before you ask, no I'm not giving you the spell. It's stupid and takes a week to wear off.) If I'm this weak, I only have one shot at hurting Snow before I lose the will to move completely. Inch by inch, I wedge my fingers around the stick until I can feel it, strong and unyielding in my hand. Gradually, I drag it silently across the floor. In one lightning move, I lift it up and swipe around me until I hit something with a satisfying whack.

"OW!"

I open my eyes. Even the smallest motion sends a fresh wave of aching through my body.

Snow's lying on the ground, clutching his leg. He's rocking back and forth like a baby, muttering curses under his breath and glaring at me.

"Did you really think you could kill me in my sleep? That's pathetic, Snow, even for you."

Snow's expression changes from furious to confused.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. Did you forget about planning to stick a knife in my back? Do you want me to recap it for you?" I snarl.

Snow looks at me incredulously. He might have had a good teacher, but he still can't quite look disdainful without scrunching up his nose like he's going to sneeze. The fact that I know this hurts almost as much as my head.

"No, I didn't".

I twist my neck to look behind me.

I'm leaning against a tree trunk, and my back is resting on a root.

I desperately try to stem the blush that is rapidly rising to my cheeks.

"Well, at least I got an excuse to hit you when the Roommate's Anathema isn't around."

Snow looks at me, hopelessly trying to claw back my dignity, and starts laughing uncontrollably.

Simon

Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't stop myself laughing (and trust me, I didn't want to).

I laugh and laugh and laugh. It's been a long time since I've laughed like this. It's weird that the person whose main occupation is trying to kill me is the same person that can make me laugh like I can't stop.

Sometimes, it's really easy to forget that Baz is supposed to be my enemy.

Sometimes, he doesn't seem like an evil villain to me.

Sometimes, he just seems like a normal boy, groaning because he's been humiliated by a tree. And not a magical tree, either. A bog-standard tree.

If I wasn't supposed to kill him, I might actually quite like him.

Maybe more than like him.

All at once, a million puzzle pieces slot into place.

Baz, arguing with the football coach when I got kicked off the team. Baz, distracting me when I'm trying to studying for chemistry. Baz, eating salt and vinegar crisps on his bed when he thinks I'm asleep. Baz, stopping me from looking for the Humdrum when Penelope went missing. Baz, screaming at me to run when the school was attacked by the Humdrum again. Baz, holding my hand.

That's when it hits me.

I like Baz.


	3. Chapter 3

Simon

In my mind I can hear Baz snarling "Well done, Snow, you figured it out. Finally. Like I've told you countless times, EVERYONE likes me."

It's almost comic that in a split second I realised something that is going to change everything. It's almost unfair. Revelations like that should take time. Instead I can just feel it making the hairs on my arms stand up and replacing the blood in my veins with something electric.

I don't want to think about what this means. I don't want to think about how this is going to work. I don't want to think about anything, especially Baz.

Baz.

He's lying on his back and glaring at the sky, oblivious to the nuclear explosion that is happening right next to him. He looks completely unfazed by the fact that the most powerful magician in existence just smashed his head against a tree trunk (then again, it's almost impossible to surprise Baz. He's like a seer, except better looking). His mouth is set in a firm line, but his eyes are glinting with amusement. I haven't seen him this relaxed in...well, pretty much since I've known him. From this angle I can see the jagged scar running down the side of his cheek from when the Humdrum grabbed him. He escaped, but only just.

The Humdrum.

"Baz, we need to go" I say urgently. "The Humdrum could come back if he finds out we escaped."

Baz sits up abruptly, then winces. Clearly he's not as fine as he's making out.

Baz sees me looking. He smirks."

"Enjoying the view?"

Shit.

Ignoring his comment, I narrow my eyes at him

"What's wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about?" Baz snaps. "I'm fine. Let's go."

He attempts to stand up, but his legs give way and he thuds unceremoniously back onto the ground. I bite my lip to stop myself laughing. Baz scowls.

"You sure about that?"

Baz mutters something nondescript under his breath, but he gives in.

"I hit my head on the tree. I think it's pretty bad." He gives me an ironic grimace. "You are useful for something after all."

Baz

I'm not thinking straight.

I never admit that Snow has hurt me. Not when his shield charm went wrong and burnt my wrist. Not when he hit the spot where that f*****g vampire changed me. Not now, not ever.

I guess today that changed.

I gently touch my head and bite my tongue so hard I can taste blood in my mouth. It HURTS. A lot. And the pain isn't going to go away fast, either.

Obviously I'm not going to be leaving anytime soon.

A vampire.

Stranded with Snow.

Who's thirsty.

This has a lot of potential to get messy.

Snow sighs. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to leave. It'll just make it worse."

I hate to admit it, but it's true. All I want right now is to curl up in a ball and sleep for a million years. And blood. Lots of blood.

Every second I can feel the pull intensifying, the craving growing stronger. It makes my head spin even more and bile rises up in my stomach. If I don't find something, soon, I'm going to explode.

This is not a good situation.

If the wild, blood thirsty side of me had eyes, they would be entirely fixed on Snow right now (as well as my regular eyes. All. The. Time.)

I bite down on my tongue again.

I can feel my control slipping away.

I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on.


	4. Hi!

Hi guys! I just wanted to thank you all for reading, commenting and following my first ever fanfic...it really does mean a lot to me. Sorry for not updating, I'm in Scotland right now and my wifi isn't great but when I get home I promise I have something planned, so don't worry! I'll be back on your screens soon...

See you then!


	5. Chapter 5

Baz

I'm fighting. I'm fighting but I'm not strong enough, nothing's strong enough and suddenly I feel weak because if I can't resist this for him then there's nothing I can do. Because he's the most important thing. He's it. And the world is spinning like the f*****g axis is broken and I'm not sure if this is because of my head or the fact that Snow is moving towards me. I can feel myself collapsing from the pain of it, the power of it and I think I might be blacking out but then abruptly his face is interrupting the haze, the nice cosy haze that will keep him safe if he just let it for once. As long as I'm not here he's fine, he's ok and nothing else matters because now I'm kissing him and he's kissing me but I'm not sure if this is real or not and I can feel myself losing consciousness. I have to stay awake. For him. But it's too late, I've lost and as I fall I call out his name once.

"Simon…"

Simon

I'm not entirely sure what just happened.

I'm not entirely sure I want to remember, either.

Maybe it would be better if I did just forget about it. Pretend it never happened.

There's one small problem : I really, really, REALLY do not want to forget about it.

At all.

But right now there's something more important and that's Baz. Baz who I JUST KISSED. Baz who is passed out on the ground and possibly at risk of dying if I don't do something fast.

I crouch down and tentatively poke him. "Baz?"

No respose. I put my hand on his bony chest. His heart's beating, but shallowly.

I collapse on the ground. I don't know if this is something I can fix. I don't know how long he's got, and I have no clue how to save him.

Actually….maybe I do.

In our world, there's this thing called the Calling of Temptation. It's an ancient charm that's been around as long as anyone can remember. Basically, everyone has something that's their calling. It could be a scent, a feeling, literally anything at all – but it has to stay the same for the entirety of your life and it can never change. Once you've picked it it'll be there forever. In desperate situations, it can be used to bring someone back from almost dying or a fatal illness (it can't be used to bring someone back to life, though - I heard about a guy who died trying to use it like that). But there's a catch ; you're not allowed to tell anyone your calling.

If I can guess what Baz' is, I could have a chance of saving him.

This better work.


	6. Chapter 6

Simon

I scan through my brain desperately, but it's useless. It's a needle in a haystack, and the needle is stabbing at my insides and I know it's not going to stop until I find Baz's calling. I have to do this. I have to save him. And I can't help thinking that if I can't do this, being a hero doesn't matter, saving the world doesn't matter because he is the world, MY world. He's rain and the pages of old books. He's the relief of finding the thing you thought you'd lost and the hot slashes of panic when you realise it's gone and you might not get it back. He's the sweetness of summer and the gentleness of autumn. He's forest fires and deepest dark, the villain of any storybook, but he's mine. And I need to keep him here.

Suddenly I feel my legs giving way and I collapse on the ground next to Baz's barely moving body. His hair is messy and ruffled, making him look 5 years younger. Unconsciousness has swept away any trace of his experiences, and I realise with a start that this is the first time I've seen him not pretending or acting or swaggering. He's just being, and he's even more beautiful for it.

Gently, lightly, I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes. If this is Baz going, then I need to stay here until he falls asleep.

Without warning, his blue, blue eyes fly open.

Baz

"I couldn't really leave you to struggle without me, could I ?"


End file.
